A Gift on Awakening
by Greybird
Summary: Two people who've admired the Legion awaken to their dream come true. (Present-day tangent from pre-Zero Hour Levitz era)


"A Gift on Awakening" ... a story of the "real" Starhaven

_**A Gift on Awakening**_

**... a story of the Starhaven**

_By Greybird_

Afternoon sunlight suddenly poured through the bedroom windows, after having been interrupted by clouds. It was raw and barely shaded. As it hit Jim, lying on his stomach on the bed, it made him stir with its warmth on his bare skin. 

He half-opened his eyes, groggy from a deep and dreamless sleep, and he looked into the pillow. Blue, he thought. When did I last change the sheets? I could have sworn I put the green set on last. 

His alarm clock seemed to be blinking next to the bed, intruding on his sluggish brain. Blinking? he thought. Must have had a power outage in the night. Just as well that I have no clients I need to see today. 

He turned onto his side, pushing up from the bedsheet, swinging his legs onto the floor. He felt exhausted in every muscle, somehow, and a bit out of balance—he resisted falling backward onto the bed. He moved to get up and stretch ... 

... and he was up and out of bed, on his feet, with a rapid jerk. What's going on? he puzzled to himself. That felt like I was almost flying upward. Serves me right if I fall down on the carpet. ... Carpet? Wait a minute. I have a hardwood floor in here! 

He stood still, eyes tightly shut, puzzling it all out, arms stretched above his head. No sound could be heard in the room, except for a rustle of feathers. Damn, he thought. I left the window open, no wonder the air feels so strange. The birds woke me up. 

He turned to close the window, lowering his arms—and soft feathers brushed his elbow. His heart skipped a beat. He reached with his left hand toward his opposite elbow ... and grasped at the tip of a greyish-white feather. He pulled on it. Something tugged at his back, in a sensation that he'd never known before. And the foot-long feather was in his hand. 

He stared at the feather, dumbfounded, and found his voice. Whaaaa ... what is going on here? 

He shook his back. A swaying sensation and the noise of rustling feathers filled his senses. He began to choke. He spied the full-length mirror across the room, and ran to it without thinking. He moved twice as fast as usual, and almost slammed into the mirror. 

He closed his eyes, stepped back a pace, and slowly opened his eyes again. His breath left his chest in a rush, as his eyes cleared and he contemplated what he saw: 

An athletic, well-proportioned, nude young man looked back at him, with thick yet not overdone ropes of muscle from neck, to arms, to chest, to waist and abdomen, and down long, stretched-out legs. Early 20s, it seemed. The man had a light-coppery skin color, no beard, straight black hair that fell to just below his shoulders. 

But most startling of all, the vision before him had two limbs rising gracefully from his back, arcing at least a foot above his head, and gently swooping back down, covered in greyish feathers, impossible feathers, at least three thick layers, their tips stretching to mid-calf. They were wings, neatly folded, and at least seven feet long each, back to tip. 

Jim shuddered at the apparition confronting him in the mirror, staring at it with perfectly focused vision ... and its face shuddered back at him, visibly shaking. He shut his eyes tight. 

This is me? he thought. Suddenly, a sense of sheer exultation rose from the small of his back, up his neck, to the crown of his head, prickling the skin as it came. _This is me!_ he yelled. _I have wings!_

He waited a moment, not quite wanting to believe, and then opened his eyes to take in the sight once more. 

No, he didn't appear as he had the night before in the mirror, overweight, a good bit out of shape, untanned skin, beard, glasses, sliding into his late 30s. He had changed into what he could only call an athlete. And a hunk. An Amerind—look at those almond-shaped eyes! 

And with ... with wings! As he had long imagined, from having loved the stories of the Legion ... but no, this isn't Dawnstar in the 30th Century, this is _me_. The mirror doesn't fool me, I'm a man, and how! Look between those legs. And I have acres of flat muscled chest, not even any chest hair, it's me, that's me in the mirror ... 

Wait a minute, he thought. What mirror is this? I don't have any mirror this big in the bedroom. Where did this come from? 

He looked around the room with close attention for the first time since he'd awakened. A luxurious bed, modern furnishings, soft green carpet, all new and of impeccable quality. Not the worn-edged antiques of his bedroom. And that huge mirror. None of this was here last night, he thought. Certainly not that blinking light on the nightstand. 

He gazed at the ceiling and the door frames, all easily 18 inches higher than they should have been. Why, this isn't even my house, he thought. Where in the hell am I? 

He turned, moving gingerly across the carpet. His center of gravity was now both higher—he clearly had less mass—and in the small of his back, pulled backwards by those wings. Those _wings_! 

He walked over to the nightstand, feeling compelled somehow to reach out his hand to the blinking light, not knowing quite what he was doing, half-dazed from what he had seen in the mirror. He touched the box, it stopped blinking and softened to a warm glow, and he heard a soft female voice. 

Good afternoon, Jim. Yes, it is all real. You have wings. You are not dreaming. All will soon be explained for you, what has happened to you, where you are, why you are here. It paused for a moment, as he took this in. 

You have a companion, who also has just awakened. It's time for the two of you to meet. Please go across the room to the closed door next to the mirror, and open it slowly. 

Shaking his head, as if to dispel mental cobwebs, he turned toward the closed door. Who could this be? he thought. I didn't have a date last night. 

He walked slowly to the door, turned the knob with care, and eased it open. A mass of white feathers hung suspended in mid-air across the next bedroom, above two shapely feet, blocking another mirror. 

The feathers suddenly whirled around, and a tall woman with long, dark-brown, straight hair stood staring at him, transfixed. 

She was nude, with the same light-coppery skin, no more than 21 herself, perfect Greek proportions, piercing blue eyes, a hint of well-defined muscle tone, high cheekbones, round and firm breasts, a mouth fixed in amazement ... and Jim's gaze kept moving between her body and her face. 

And then to her wings, also rising like a gusher from her back, to a foot above her head, swooping down into perfect curves ending below her knees. She stood, proud yet shocked, stunned by his frank appraisal, and giving one of her own. 

Her voice rose, choking, in her chest. She doubled over, coughing, and then managed to gasp at him as she straightened up. Who the bloody hell are you? 

Jim took a deep, ragged breath, still stunned by this beautiful sight in front of him. He finally stammered out, I c-could ask the s-same of you. 

Come on, who are you? Where am I? Where are we? she cried out, in a pronounced English accent. 

I assure you, I don't know. Not even about myself. 

She shuddered, backing up a step to take in both this winged man, standing in the doorway, and the mirror to her left. 

Something's happening to my mind. Or I had too many tokes last night. Or ... or ... She sighed and looked deeply into the mirror, at her folded wings. 

If the talking alarm clock I found in the other room is right, this is no dream. Jim looked toward the woman's nightstand, and saw another such box, also blinking. Touch that thing, and see what it says to you. 

Half in a daze, the winged woman slowly crossed the carpet to her own box, and hesitantly reached out her index finger to touch it. It began speaking to her in a rounded, deeply masculine voice. 

Good afternoon, Susan. Yes, it's all real. It's not a dream. You really do have wings. You have met your companion, and he will not hurt you. All of this has a purpose, as you will soon find out. 

She clasped her arms around her breasts, turned back to Jim with a frightened look, scanned him once again from wing to foot, and whirled around to stare at the box once more. It spoke again. 

Please, do not be frightened. Would you both please go into the next room, through the door to the right of the mirror? We can explain more to you in there. 

Susan pondered this, looked at Jim quizzically for a moment, and shrugged her shoulders. Why not? she said, with false nonchalance. 

As she turned, she took in her appearance again in the mirror, and suddenly exulted, stretching her arms wide. Wings! I really have wings! She whirled back to the glowing box. How _can_ I? What is this, a gag? 

It is quite real. So is your companion. His name is Jim. Please go with him into the next room. 

She walked across the carpet, and stood in front of him, arms at her sides. Well ... she mused. We seem to have been given the same gift. If you're real, that is. 

He extended his right hand to her. And if you are. Only one way to find out. 

She took his hand, with hesitation but a slight smile. Pleased to meet you ... whoever the hell you are. 

He smiled warmly. It's a real pleasure. Shall we see what they want, whoever _they_ are? 

Well, I'm game. 

They walked slowly into the next room. It appeared to be a library. Jim recognized some of his favorite art books sitting on the top shelves. His slipcases, those he'd had made to house his Legion collection, sat next to them. Well, they brought my books here, at least, he thought idly. 

The winged couple headed for two tall ottomans that sat in the middle of the room. A glowing glass dome, about a foot in diameter and topping a two-foot-tall cylinder, sat on the floor at the opposite end of the room, in front of the bookshelves. It vibrated and began to speak in a warm female voice, the same one that Jim had heard earlier. 

Yes, children, come in. Please sit down, and face this way. 

They slowly sat down, seeing that the ottomans were the best chairs in the room to accommodate their wings. 

As they stared at the glowing dome, a hologram emerged and hung in the room before them. It firmed up in shape, and resolved itself into the image of an Amerind woman. Mid-30s, apparently, wearing a ceremonial buckskin and assorted jewelry ... and with a fountain of white wings coming from her back. 

Welcome, children. I am Riverwalker, and I represent the Starhaven Council. I will explain what has happened to you, and why you are here. 

What is this place? demanded Susan. H-how did we change like this? It all feels wonderful, but why? Who are you? 

I am someone who cares about you, and who has helped to bestow these gifts upon you. You're seeing an active representation of me, the result of an A.I. matrix that we have programmed. My image will speak for me, and will answer any questions you have. But I actually live,' so to speak, long ago—or long to come—and far away. In over 300 years, I have never had so important a message to deliver. 

Listen first, said the hologram, and stepped back to allow an image of a spiral galaxy of stars to appear. 

We'll listen, said Jim. He sneaked a look at his companion. Gods, she was beautiful! He caught Susan looking back at him, with a troubled smile. 

You two have been made to benefit from the technology and society of my planet, Starhaven. A pinpoint of light glowed far more brightly, about a third of the way from the massive galactic core to one spiral arm. Our planet is here, near the core of the Milky Way. It is about 15,000 light years from Earth. Another pinpoint glowed, far out on the spiral arm. 

I am speaking to you from one of many Earth colonies, nearly one thousand years in the future from your time. It is not a real-time link, though we hope you'll feel comfortable with it as if it were so. We have sent this artificial intelligence device back to your time. Its program is what will be answering your questions. If I could have been there with you, I would have gladly done so. 

This A.I. device, under our direction, sought for you, selected you, and changed you into that which you had long desired. 

Jim and Susan turned and stared in shock at each other. Into what _we_ desired? he asked. ... Wait. Wait just a minute. Starhaven, you said? Are you telling us that ... that the stories are real? That there's a real Legion of Super-Heroes? A United Planets? 

Susan gasped in sudden realization, and whispered feverishly under her breath, It's true ... all true ... 

Some of it is true, Riverwalker replied. All enduring legends have some truth. Her image stepped back, and bright, animated holograms began to follow her explanations. 

Many Earth colonies exist in our time, a few of them inspired in part by your Legion legends. We are loosely allied, across about one-fifth of this galaxy. We have met no other sentient life, though we've detected distant radio signals. All that we have up close, in that respect, are the various populations that traveled from Earth. Many have mutated, from local influences or by deliberate design, as did many of your Legion heroes. 

We who are now of Starhaven departed from Earth in the 2200s. We represented the last of the North American indigenous peoples. We didn't want to be ruled by technology, as it had come to rule others. We wanted it to serve us, and to allow a better connection with the power of life. 

Our space telescopes found signs of a lush, green, life-filled planet in a binary star system. When a practical quantum-flux stardrive became possible, we bought it and created colony ships, as had others. We had the resources from two centuries of casino gaming to do so. Thus did we create a good from others' weaknesses. 

In traveling with sleeper ships, we kept some of our scientists active to conduct generations of work in genetic engineering, over the nearly two centuries it took to travel by warp to Starhaven. We wanted to make sure that we could tread lightly upon our new planet, and not have to cover it with barren roads and sterile cities. 

We knew that personally controlled transport, and space travel, would be the best ways to avert damage to our new home. So we bred these abilities into our population, with centuries of tests and, then, active somatic manipulation of our sleeping people. We all had wings when we arrived, and we would give them to our descendants. They were a readily available genetic type for housing what we needed— organs to manipulate spacetime, and screens to gather and focus the background microwave radiation of the universe. 

All of us could fly at our mental command around Starhaven. We do not move air, we use our wings to move energy around and through us. 

About one in five of us, shortly thereafter, were enabled to fly in open space within our local star system, and without need for pressure suits. We were shielded against radiation and space hazard. We could draw oxygen and energy from our home planet through a tesseract centered in our chests, and send back waste products in the same way. Thus we could range freely in space, with no need for other technological support. 

About one in twenty of us were enabled, decades later, to manipulate spacetime warps so as to roam the galaxy freely. This group became skilled navigators, with heightened psionic and telekinetic abilities. 

And then in the last century, for us, we mastered genetic nanotechnologies that allowed us to share this entire range of abilities with nearly our full population ... and with a few others we have seen as being worthy. This is where you come in. 

Susan and Jim sat bolt upright, filled with anticipation. 

We want to create another Starhaven, in a parallel reality.' We needed to find people of integrity and spirit who could be motivated to help in doing so. We knew of the two of you through our historical researches. You had been well known as partisans of the character called Dawnstar,' in the Legion stories. She persisted in this folklore in later centuries, partly through the residue of your efforts. 

And, besides this ... you have recently met. 

They looked at each other, a light dawning in their eyes. Sue ...? Are you Sue Travis? From London? I thought I recognized something in your eyes! In your voice! We met during AdventureCon last year. We blew off the rest of the con, stayed together for days on end ... 

Jim—Jim—Winters? It can't be. But it's in your eyes, I can see it. You had that Dawnstar Website! We talked for days, about everything Legion, or so it seemed. I don't believe this. The one person who'd understand what I longed for, all this time. Whom I'd hoped to meet again. 

said Riverwalker. You do recognize each other. We knew that this meeting would create a bond between you. 

We knew that your fondest desires were for the feelings of flight, to actually be Starhavenites, to be winged as we are, and to explore the galaxy. We could read your dreams, aspirations, plans, once we looked more closely. We knew that you both had few living relatives, weak interest in your employment, and truly vivid imaginations. We could gauge what fired your souls, and we wanted to enlist you in our cause, if we can. 

You have been pulled away to what once was called a parallel Earth,' very similar to your own time, but in a different timeline. Your ties to your pasts have been gently altered, records have been changed, and no one you knew has any pain in having lost contact with you. 

We remade your bodies, with our nanotech, into what you both had long desired. You wanted the appearance and abilities of well-developed young Amerinds. You wanted the Starhavenites' powers. We have given them to you, freely and without obligation. 

The young people looked at each other, and back at the hologram, with doubtful lines in their faces. 

Please, admit the truth to yourselves. You had both asked for this. You had even said so on occasion to others. You knew it would be better, more appealing, than your mundane former lives. Will you be honest with yourselves? 

After a long pause, Jim finally spoke up. Yes, I admit it. I know we both desired this, from what we shared when we last met. You're right. I suppose if you _had_ asked us openly about wanting any of this, we'd have dismissed you as being quite crazy. Or anyone else who'd suggested it. 

So what _do_ we have? asked Sue. What _can_ we now do? 

Well, you both can now fly at will, as we can, once you learn how to closely control your inner focus, said Riverwalker's image, now showing some satisfaction. The holograms continued to illustrate her points. You'll learn these guidance abilities in stages, but quite quickly. 

You can move at up to Mach 10, as you measure it, near the surface of a planet, and many times that when you leave its atmosphere. When you go beyond a gravity well, and its influence drops to less than about one-fourth that of Earth, you can enter or create spacetime warps, and can travel at up to 16 light years per hour. In an emergency, with much greater energy depletion, it can be up to twice that speed. 

You'll be able to survive in open space, as we can. You have the organs to draw sustenance from across the void. You need not wear clothes, though we have suggestions and samples for you. Your travels will not be affected by minor debris, radiation, or interstellar mass. 

When you do encounter obstacles, lifeforms or otherwise, you can defend yourselves, with strength that is several times that of normal humanoids. 

You can track and follow any mass or energy source, with a greater pull from lifeforms, and as far away as halfway across the galaxy. You can navigate flawlessly to any computer-generated or map-described location. 

You both have some natural telepathy, but you will also have and use the earplugs that our science has developed to strengthen this between yourselves. These will enable you to understand almost any language, and to converse across almost any distance in space. 

You will not age. Your physical ages will stay at 21 years, unless you'd like to choose another set-point. We recently discovered how to stop aging completely. Some, like me, had to age by more than ten years over the last three centuries before we fully achieved this. You're more fortunate. 

Your bodies will resist all known and much unknown disease, with their genetics and with internal nanos. You will recover from minor injuries nearly immediately. A severe enough injury _could_ take your life—on the order of flying directly into a solar flare. For all practical purposes, though, you are now physically immortal. 

The woman's image paused. And, last and most delicately, you will have each other. Or so we have hoped. We hope that you will discover each other and find your mutual spirits within each other. 

The two newly-shaped young winged beings turned and looked deeply into each other's eyes. Their minds raced with possibilities. 

We hope you will help us, as well, Riverwalker went on, though the couple was only half listening. You have your powers, and the computer that will advise you, and this home and life setting, all provided and arranged. It's all yours. Yet if you can help with being a embassy for us, in the past, and with a sense of your own era, we will be most grateful. And it will bring you many other Starhavenites to meet, and to enjoy their company. 

We are sending many people with technical and political skills to what is our past, on your parallel Earth. Its future is obscure in our time. We want to shape our people's choices on your new world, spark their aspirations, so that they will eventually make the same voyage that we have made. And so that we will one day have more brothers and sisters across the dimensional gap. 

Your home is isolated, with no near neighbors to observe what will occur. The quantum computer would act as the beacon in time and space to bring visitors to your home and reality. We would only ask that your guests be shown hospitality until they take up their roles elsewhere. You have rooms and resources to host them. 

You will act, if you wish, as our empowered representatives to resolve any difficulties that they may encounter. You can deal with and move among those on this Earth, with no difficulty and with the same appearance and clothing as others. A fourth-dimension field will hide your wings, whenever you wish. You'll be productive and active. It will be challenging and stimulating. 

You will be told long in advance of anyone's coming, and arrivals will be no more often than monthly. We will not send anyone for at least the first few years! You two must have time to get to know each other better. You'll have a thousand years, then, to represent your new people, if you so choose, until you join us in our time. 

Susan leaned back, inclining her head, her feathers rustling. I'm sure we would both be glad to help you. Yet I still find this all a bit much to absorb at once. Time travel, especially, that's hard for me to understand. 

But we can see the holograms, said Jim, and we have the evidence on our backs that you at least mean what you say. I know I'm grateful for all of this. And we'd like to know much more about your plans. 

Do believe us, for we wish to share, and will have much more to share. Even if you choose not to be our embassy to the past, or to continue in that role, we have been glad to at least give you these powers and this new life. It's what you truly deserved, from the noble acts and clear yearnings of your spirits. 

And now we will leave you, children, to think about all of this and to let it be discussed between you. You will learn and absorb more details quite easily. You'll have all the time you need. 

When you want to begin being trained in your powers, or know more about what they involve, all you need do is ask. Use either this dome, or the unit in each room. My A.I. persona will respond, or that of my husband, Thundercloud, will do so. 

The hologram faded. 

Jim and Susan stood up slowly, each suppressing an adrenaline rush. They looked again at each other, taking in their wings, their bodies, their sculpted faces. A charge of anticipation grew between them. 

I still can't quite believe what we've become, he said. Or what a future we now have. ... It _is_ what you've dreamed, isn't it? On long nights? When you had no one around? 

she said, shyly hiding her face for a moment. How did you know I've been so alone? That I couldn't share these dreams with anyone? 

Something lit up your face, way back, when we talked for so long about a real' Starhaven, and what it would mean to us. I had a sense that we could have shared more feelings, deeper feelings ... for a moment. But it went away. I was foolish. I should have pursued it. 

So should I. And I only wish we'd done so sooner. 

Jim grinned. Apparently it's not at all too late. At least, not now. What was it that she said about practical near-immortality? 

A light of purpose dawned on Sue's face. Let's at least find out what else is here, before we make any more plans. First things first. Clothes and food, wouldn't you agree? 

I'm glad you said that. I'm famished. Whatever metamorphosis they put us through must have drained our energy. As if the tale told from that A.I. wasn't enough! Let's look for some clothes first ... though we hardly need them, do we? He winked at her. 

She smiled back at him with affection. Well, now that I know you're not a stranger, and that you're a man of taste and intelligence, it's a lot easier to take. But let's look around. 

They followed the guidance of the computer boxes in their bedrooms. After placing a small plug-shaped device in one ear, they could each hear the A.I. voices more clearly, along with whispers of each other's thoughts. 

The couple then looked together inside both of their dressers. They found several outfits that reminded them of what the Legion characters were once depicted as wearing, on some of their more minimalist days. Yet wearing less clothing appealed to them. Most of these outfits had some leather fringe or other Amerind ornament, although their closets contained a range of current Earth human fashions. 

They settled upon pieces that matched in their deep golden tone. He found a breechcloth that folded closely underneath him and was secured with an ornamented belt, along with leather-fringed bracelets. She chose an ornamented halter swimsuit, with fringe on both pieces. They each found boots of the same color and style, with fringed tops, and were glad to have that in common, but decided to go barefoot for the moment. 

The new outfits molded themselves to their contours when they put them on, to become nearly a second skin. Polymicronics ... they weren't kidding about the fit. Just as in those stories. You look superb! he said to her, as he bound his long hair together behind his head. 

So do you— She hesitated, as she finished making a loose backflip on her own hair. We're in a new life, and perhaps we should break fully with the past. Should we still use our old names? Or should we find new ones? 

A thrill went through his wings, as if a change of name would reshape him more than any nanotech had done. I knew all along what I wanted to be, but I never said it out loud. Except to you. And on the Net, where it served as a mask. Now I bear the name I wanted on my own back. I would like to become ... Silverbird. 

She thought for a moment. I like that. It suits you. It has a sound of power to it. As for me, I dreamed of soaring on the winds—and now, I can. In my heart I have always seen myself as ... Windrider. 

He was immediately pleased. That's beautiful. It fits how you look. He crooked his arm to her. Shall we see what food they chose to leave for us ... milady Windrider? 

She took his arm, sharing his broad smile, and they walked toward a wide stairway outside the bedroom doors. A genuine pleasure ... m'lord Silverbird. 

They found a fully stocked and equipped kitchen, set up for automatic Net restocking, and a wine cellar. As they prepared a meal together, and savored it in the dining room, they talked incessantly about how they were feeling, the new sensations from their wings, what they could expect from their future. 

In the living room of their new home, they both lay on their sides on the chaise longue that served in place of a sofa, and which allowed for their wings to lie free behind them. They sipped at a rich red after-dinner wine as they looked intently at each other, each propped up on one elbow. 

She was surprised at his poise. Doesn't this scare you? Shaping a new world and a future among the stars. Remade bodies. Traveling the galaxy. Do you feel you're up to it? I hope that I am. 

Silverbird pondered her words. Yes, it all makes me tremble a little inside. But Riverwalker was right, it's a life I always dreamed of having. All that I found hard to imagine was the possibility of sharing it with someone. 

Windrider blushed. Their mutual attraction was powerful. A personal charge surrounded them and filled their eyes. I had hoped for that, she half-whispered, but I never expected it. 

Well, I know I don't want to wait any longer to share it. We've both been waiting long enough, in dreams and outside of dreams. Let's have them start telling us about how we can fly. 

They dashed down the rest of their wine and ran to the computer box across the living room, next to double glass doors leading out to a huge, moonlit terrace. 

The box told them to stand on the terrace and spread their wings wide. After several minutes of absorbing energy from around them, they would be able to begin flying—and the navigation senses inside their heads, linked to the A.I. device, would guide them further. 

They walked outside under the brilliant moon, and the meaning of that moment made them share a tender embrace. They then stood facing each other. Each let their wings unfold, to more than fifteen feet, side to side. A sense of being filled and empowered began to grow inside each of them, lifting their wings, making them warm in the center of their chests. Soon after this, an inner sense told them that they were ready, and a wordless voice guided them into how to focus their wills. 

After a few more moments of concentration, they lifted off vertically from the terrace, accelerating together, flying faster and faster, as they cut cleanly through the night air. It seemed to part around them, not giving any resistance beyond a minimal tickle to their faces, skins, and feathers. 

Windrider and Silverbird looked at each other, with disbelieving grins on their faces, as they reached the ionosphere in barely a minute. They turned, hovering, and looked down at the glowing lights of the cities of half a continent, another America, strewn out a hundred miles below them. 

She talked to him over their telepathic plugs. ::We've gone so high, and moved so fast, shouldn't we have more trouble breathing?:: 

::Remember what they said to us? Feel your chest, next to your heart.:: 

Windrider pressed her hand to her breastbone, and felt a surge of energy under her skin. 

::It's what the A.I. told us about. A fourth-dimensional gate. We have oxygen and cellular energy. It enters us through there, sent to us from the planet. Earth, I'll bet, in our case, not Starhaven.:: 

She gazed intently, with pure joy, at the lights far below them. Then she floated over to him, encircling his waist with her arms, and looked just as intently into his brown eyes. ::This may seem a bit forward, after only a few hours like this ... but I always wanted to _really_ kiss someone under the moonlight.:: 

Silverbird took her cue, smiled with deep warmth, and lowered his lips to hers. They hovered in a near-rapture for what seemed an endless interval in the moonlight, arms and legs entwined, sandwiched between their wingspans. He then pulled back, slowly, and looked into her deep blue eyes. 

::I know what, milady Windy,:: he sent silently to her. ::Tomorrow, we'll ask Riverwalker about how we get _to_ the moon, not just how to soar under its shining light. Then let's fly together to Mare Tranquilitatus, scope out that first moon-landing site like gawkin' interstellar tourists, and then lie back on the side of a crater and watch the Earth rise.:: 

She grinned at him, pleased at his suggestion. ::I'm up for that, m'lord Silver. In the meantime, let's make the most of tonight.:: She jumped away from him. ::Tag! You're it'!:: 

Windrider yelled in delight over their mind-link, as she dived away from him and flew towards the seacoast. Silverbird followed, grinning, shaping his wings as the A.I. was guiding him, to more quickly catch up with her. A booming sound echoed around them as they arced out over the darkness of the North Atlantic. 

§ § § 

Original writing and story characters: Copyright © 2000 by J.S. Reed  
Dawnstar, Legion of Super-Heroes, Starhaven, and United Planets are trademarks of DC Comics, Inc.

_This story may be included in any Legion fan-fiction archive, provided that the copyright  
notice and the following information and hyperlinks are included in some format:_

  * Version 2, revised 1 July 2000
  * Rating: PG
  * The four trademarks noted above are used without permission, for non-commercial fan fiction only
  * All other character and setting names are the property of the author
  * Feedback address: [Greybird@LSH.org][1]
  * First published: [LegionFiction][2] Yahoo! Group, July 2000

   [1]: mailto:Greybird@LSH.org
   [2]: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/LegionFiction



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